


Birthdays (or four birthdays Kirk and Spock spent together and one they didn't.)

by daphnie_1



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: 5+1, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-28
Updated: 2010-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnie_1/pseuds/daphnie_1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four birthdays Kirk and Spock spent together and one they didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthdays (or four birthdays Kirk and Spock spent together and one they didn't.)

**Author's Note:**

> beta: the lovely Jaylee_g
> 
> Warnings: Light swearing

**1)**

Kirk walks into McCoy’s office - without knocking - and grabs a chair.

"I should be on the bridge. I'm not."

McCoy looks up from the form he's filling in.

"Good morning to you as well, Captain obvious."

Okay, so it is pretty obvious. Considering he's in his Captains uniform, which yeah he's looking damn good in, but not the point. The point is that he's here, and well, he shouldn't be.

"Nice one, Doctor Sarcastic." Kirk answers, rolling his eyes.

McCoy gives up on the form and shoves it to the side. Normally this would have been followed by a melodramatic sigh but McCoy is learning when to just give in. "I'm assuming _you’re_ the sidekick 'cause I'm sure as hell not." Then he draws in a breath "I'm guessing you managed to catch the date this morning?"

Well yeah, it's kinda hard to miss it. What with the fact that people keep freaking mentioning it.

"It's my birthday, big deal."

McCoy snorts, "What do you normally do on your birthday?"

The question gets a shrug from Kirk. He never usually does much. His mom had thrown him birthday parties as a kid – he partly thinks it was to take her mind off the date - but now? He doesn't see the point in doing anything.

McCoy obviously realizes he's not getting an answer. "Lemmie help you out there. You've a bit of a habit of getting drunk out your skull."

Yeah, and McCoy knows that because for the last three years they've been matching each other drink for drink.

To Kirk's credit he has tried staying sober on his birthday once. It hadn't really worked out. Kirk nods, "Yeah, and? I can do that after my shift."

McCoy shakes his head, "Look, it's only a day of sick leave. Just take it and shut up."

"Well fuck you, too." Kirk snaps at him and almost regrets it when he sees the smirk on McCoy’s face.

"You wish," McCoy tells him.

Everyone's a comedian. Kirk flings himself back in his chair, which he'll admit is a touch dramatic, but hell..."Why the hell does everyone think I'm going to turn into a freaking wreck?"

He's not going to lie: he hates them thinking that. Hates that the thought even occurred to them. He shakes his head, "Uhura hugged me this morning. For no reason. None."

Don't get him wrong: They get on pretty damn well but she's not the touchy-feely type. Well, not with him anyway. She'd just wandered up to him in the corridor, hugged him, and walked off. He's not sure if it's a sign of the apocalypse or not. It's best to assume the worst though.

McCoy shakes his head, "You'll complain about anything, I swear." and he sighs, " _I_ don't get pretty ladies hugging me often." Kirk grins and is about to say something that may have included a mention of Nurse Chapel but McCoy cuts him off, “Look, I'm just doing it to shut the damn Vulcan up."

Now that?...He could not have called that. "Huh, what does Spock have to do with this?"

McCoy grins, "He didn't tell you? Sneaky bastard."

There's a silence for a minute, before Kirk asks, "What did Spock say?"

McCoy waves his hand, his attention drawn back to the gigantic stack of PDA's on his desk, "In Human speak it was something about you being illogical. I think. Never could translate."

Kirk shifts from his chair and makes it half way across the room - further than he'd usually get- before McCoy calls over, "Where you going?"

Kirk turns round and shoots him a grin, "Spock and I are about to have words."

"You play nice now, you hear?" McCoy tells him.

Kirk puts on his best mock-innocent expression. "As if I'd do anything else."

 

 

* * *

  
By the time he reaches the bridge he's angry as hell. He's been stopped by two people in the corridor 'randomly' wondering if he's okay. He's fucking _fine_. This should not be a hard concept for people to get. Seriously, it's just his damn birthday. You'd think it was the worst thing that ever happened.

"Mister Spock?"

Spock is sitting in the Captain's chair – his chair - talking quietly to a yeoman. Kirk can't remember her name. She's blonde, hair like a birds nest – Janice? She takes one look at him and scurries off.

"It was my understanding that you where taking the day off, Captain." Spock tells him.

Okay, so Kirk's taking a certain amount of pleasure in the slight echo of surprise in Spock's voice, sue him. Kirk grins at him, even though he really, seriously, doesn't feel like grinning just now. "You understood wrong."

Spock quirks an eyebrow at him. "Indeed?"

Kirk walks towards him - the grin more a smirk than anything and oh, just for a second he considers wiping that look off Spock's face - "I think, Mister Spock, that your in my damn chair."

"I believe this is not -" Spock starts but Kirk cut's him off.

"The hell it's not. Briefing room, now."

Spock stands up from the Captain's chair and heads for the turbolift, Kirk following suit. Kirk is keenly aware that _everyone_ on the bridge is watching them but currently he couldn't care fucking less.

Spock stands in the turbolift- hands behind his back - in that annoying Vulcan stance of his. Kirk is leaning against one of the walls. "Don't you ever do that again, you hear me? Not ever." Kirk tells Spock, and to his credit he's managing to keep his voice low.

This earns nothing from Spock apart from a blink.

"You've got a problem with me? You fucking come to me. Don't go whining to Bone's about it."

Which is just the damn thing. Spock should know him well enough by now - feel comfortable enough - to come and freaking talk to him instead of _this_. If your First Officer can't even talk to you then you're a pretty freaking sucky Captain.

Spock blinks at him again and clearly none of this is getting through. That or Spock's trying to decide the most efficient and logical way to deck him.

"I...I merely suggested to Doctor McCoy that you might appreciate alpha-shift off. He said, and I quote, that you would do so 'over your dead body.' While I find the phrasing colorful I can not help but -"

He stops when he realizes Kirk is staring at him.

"In essence I thought some rest time for you right now would be prudent."

There's a beat because, fuck, Kirk doesn't know what he's going to do. Part of him wants to scream that they all need to stop treating him like he's made of fucking glass. They've been doing it for days and it's driving him insane...and he starts to laugh. The second he catches sight of the expression on Spock's face – something between confusion and horror - the laughing almost turns hysterical.

Once he's stopped laughing he smiles – and this time it's genuine. "Look, I appreciate the thought. But, I'm fine. Seriously. I'd rather work, birthdays aren't a big deal."

He doesn't want to tell Spock he's kinda-sorta-maybe not fine. Because he can't stand the thought of Spock treating him like he's about to burst into tears every five minutes. It gets real old real quick, and damn, everyone keeps expecting it. And well, it _is_ only _kind-of_ not fine.

They reach the proper floor and they both step out, walking in tandem. Even though they don't need to go to the briefing room now – it's done almost on impulse.

“You do not consider your Birthday worth celebrating?” Spock asks him, his voice slightly lower than usual.

Kirk shrugs at him, "Nah, just another day. Vulcan's don't celebrate birthdays either."

He receives no argument from Spock on that, simply a nod. "It is, however, customary for humans."

This earns Spock a shrug.

"If you desire work to do Captain there are a substantial amount of reports that require your signature."

Kirk wonders if anyone else would even find that funny in the slightest.

"I hate you, just so you know." Kirk tells him.

Spock quirks an eyebrow but there's a shade of a smile on his face. "Duly noted Captain. Does that mean you would not desire my company for a game of chess after alpha-shift?"

Kirk laughs, "You're on Mister Spock."

 **2)**

He eventually finds Spock on the observation deck. Spock's sitting on one of the benches facing the window – even though there aren't many stars in this part of space. Kirk wonder's if he's meditating – he looks calm enough for it. Least he's okay.

He's about to leave but Spock's voice stops him. "Can I help you Captain?"

"No, it's all good Spock."

It's Amanda's birthday – well, would have been. Spock had told him once that Amanda had always celebrated her birthday despite the fact that Vulcan's don't. Kirk had decided that she must have been a pretty awesome lady.

Kirk is about to ask if he's in the way – and he's starting to get the feeling he might be - when Spock moves slightly to his left on the bench. It's a ‘blink and you'll miss it’ gesture but Kirk jumps on it. He walks over and sits down beside his first officer – his friend.

He wants to reach out and touch Spock – no not like that, although, another time it might be a thought– because he's been there, done that, and he knows what it's like. Instead he settles for a quick touch on the arm. He doesn't mean it, it's almost instinctive, but Spock doesn't seem to mind.

"I get it" Kirk tells him, because he does. Well, almost. He doesn't have the memories that Spock does, and sometimes he thinks that might well be a fucking blessing because you don't need the constant reminder. Those three words are all he says about dead fathers and absent mothers that night, because this isn't about him. In some way's it's not even about Spock. It's about Amanda.

Spock nods, seems to understand what he's trying to say. Spock is weirdly good at that these days.

He knows they should probably talk about stuff. They should probably talk about Spock's mom, and Kirk's dad, and what it's like to lose someone. Like, the whole communication gig. That's what people do in situations like this, right? What they should do.

But he knows it's the last thing that either of them wants to do.

Kirk grins at Spock, "You know what's really cool?"

Spock raises an eyebrow at him, but there's that glint in his eye that means he seriously wants to smile. Even though he won't. "I do not."

Kirk grins, "Starfleet has this new thing – I think they're calling it a holodeck - and it's going to project, like, an interactive environment. It's going to be a pretty awesome training tool but really good for rec stuff too."

The corners of Spock's mouth twitch. "I do not see, in any way, how that could be described as 'cool'. It is merely a technological advancement."

This gets a laugh from Kirk, "Oh come on! You suffer from a serious lack of imagination."

They talk like this for hours – about everything and nothing – before they hit on the things that actually matter. The reason why they are actually sitting here talking like this.

"She was a remarkable woman," Spock tells him after a spot of silence.

Kirk doesn't know how to answer, doesn't know if he wants to. He couldn't have imagined having this conversation at the start of the mission. But there's something in Spock's eyes, something that tells Kirk he needs this conversation right now. Even though he'd probably rather die than ever admit it outright.

Which means it'd be so, so easy to ignore, change the subject, do _anything_ but have this conversation.

Kirk nods, “I know. Tell me a bit about her?”

 **3)**

He kinda-sorta blames Spock for this. Well, it was Spock's idea – and fuck how did he get talked into this?

He sits and looks at the vid-screen for a few moments. It's only a call right? Nothing major, just a call. He can flick on the screen, call his mom, and wish her happy birthday. It's nothing.

But, if it's nothing then why is he so god damn nervous?

He laughs quietly to himself, because it is pretty funny. He can Captain an entire freaking star ship, face down countless unknown dangers, get his ass kicked on a weekly basis and still keep on going, but he can't make a freaking call.

He just needs to press the button and tell her.

This should not be the scariest thing he's ever done. Just because it shouldn't be doesn't mean it isn't

It's just. He doesn't know what to say – and fuck if he doesn't hate that - 'cause he doesn't know how to talk to her. Doesn't know how to talk to someone who has hurt him so damn much and who he's hurt a freaking hell lot back. Even if neither of them had really meant it.

Way back – before Starfleet, before everything - he used to think it was just her. Just used to think it was his mom that had been wrong, hadn't understood, and yeah, at points he'd hated her for it. But he's starting to get that it's not just her that a part of it might be him and he's not quite sure what to do with that.

For a genius there's a lot of stuff he doesn't know.

He stands up from his spot on the bed and walks away from the vid-screen.

He remembers his first night in here – how much it'd bugged him that these quarters didn't seem quite right. That he didn't quite seem to fit what Starfleet thought a Captain should be. He'd thought about calling her then, too – 'hey mom, guess what?' - but he hadn't. Because she probably already knew, and he'd been busy and...the place had seemed so weird. He hadn't been able to sleep properly for weeks. It'd taken him even longer to make any sort of mark on it. But now? It looks like, well, him. It's filled with his clothes, and his clutter, and his stuff.

Kirk spots a picture of him and Spock pinned on the wall beside a few others and it makes him grin. Oh how bitterly Spock had complained about getting his picture taken. It was illogical and served no purpose. He half expects to come back and find it ripped from the wall one day because Spock has gotten tired of it and that thought just makes him grin harder. They are all, the entire of the bridge crew, his friends. Except there's no pictures of his life before Starfleet. No pictures of him as a kid, no pictures of his family.

He should call her. Because it's stupid not to, and well, she's his mom. He won't, because he's a fucking coward, but he should. Spock was damn right on that.

He sits back down on the bed in front of the view screen and flicks it on, making himself dial without thinking.

She appears on the screen a few minutes later dressed in her Starfleet uniform. He can't decide if the look on her face is tiredness or confusion. And then she smiles. It's soft, almost unnoticeable, but he spots it.

"Hey mom. Happy Birthday."  
 **  
4)**

They're watching the ship from some bar in the Rigel 5 spaceport. The _Enterprise_ needs to undergo some stupid safety checks and it'd seemed like a good excuse to give the crew some shore-leave. Everyone had scattered because they all had stuff they wanted, _needed_ to do.

Except for Kirk.

See, it also happens to be the anniversary of the first mission and, call him sentimental – okay, no don't 'cause he's not – but he wants to watch over the ship. He owes her that much.

It is her birthday after all. And he is her Captain.

So he'd just been sitting there watching when Spock had shown up and sat down beside him.

"I thought you might appreciate some company Captain."

Kirk grins at him.

It's not long before they're swapping stories about the _Enterprise_ , about the previous missions, and that's when it hits him.

At the start of the mission he could never have imagined this – any of this. If you'd told him at the start that he'd be sitting here having a chat with Spock in one year’s time he'd have laughed in your face.

If you'd told him that he'd actually manage any of this he'd have done the exact same thing. But here they are – despite the odds, despite everything.

And damn if that's not worth a toast.

 **…and one they don't.**

He wakes up and it takes him a sec to realize that Spock isn't there. He's kinda grown used to it – and yeah he's not going to think about that right now.

Spock left really early that morning for some science conference-thing that he's been geeking out over for weeks. So Kirk drags himself out of bed and gets ready.

It's not 'till he's heading for the bridge that he spots something on the pillow Spock usually uses. It's a book… a real one. He trails his fingers over the cover, because fuck, this probably cost a fortune.

He opens it and there's a note on the first blank page. He's never seen this handwriting before but something about it just screams Spock – perhaps it's the perfectly curved letters.

The note has three words on it: "Happy Birthday, Jim"

He turns the page and reads the first line – ‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times’.

And Kirk grins, because he can't fucking help it. Perhaps today won't actually suck. And perhaps birthdays aren't that bad after all.


End file.
